Behind Closed Doors
by Mr. Potato Head Games
Summary: These are the words you never heard, the conversations behind closed doors. The walls are talking, and they have stories to tell...
1. The Lost Ones

Behind Closed Doors

Conversation 1: The Lost Ones

Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Itachi Uchiha

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto; the anime and all the characters and worlds within belong to Masashi Kishimoto. I'm just toying with the elements.

Summary: Interactions between characters that weren't caught on camera in the anime written as one-shots. Some of these will be more plausibly canon than others (I'll leave that distinction to you), so to be safe I'll say we're dealing with some alternate universes. But I'd like to think none of these moments are totally outside the realm of canon reality. Ages may be a little off, and backstories may be tweaked too. Rated M for safety, as future chapter ideas are unknown.

* * *

Dark and stormy nights didn't really happen in Konoha.

Given its position in the heart of Fire Country, some thought them impossible. It has been said that the lightning element is deprived of power around the village and, thus, there were no thunderstorms. Others believe the Shodai Hokage's forests have properties that stabilize the air around them with chakra and prevent lightning. Either way, no one really knows. And one Kakashi Hatake couldn't be bothered to find out.

It did make the lightning flashing through the sky all the more ominous though.

With a clap of thunder, the heavens poured down rain in quantities the young ANBU had only seen in Rain Country. The streets were quickly becoming less crowded as people rushed to their homes to avoid getting soaked. Soon, the streets were empty of life, the lights from within homes the only signs of life in the village. Even the ninja gave up on training for the day and sought shelter and comfort. For Kakashi, it was too late. He could feel the gear cling to his skin more than it should as walked down the street. His porcelain mask was slipping from the wetness of his hair and had to be held in place by hand. His shoulders slumped with the effort of carrying his tired body home.

Of course the biggest storm to hit the country in ever would start when he's just returned from his third S-class mission in a row. The month had been hell, and it didn't show any signs of easing up. _"More penance for my sins, I suppose."_

The tired shinobi trudged on, numb from the inside out.

* * *

His apartment was Spartan by design. The only decorations he had were a couple of team photos in his bedroom and the few stacks of books and scrolls littered around the living room. Having other things usually meant having memories invested in those things. And Kakashi wanted no part in the memories of others. He had enough trouble with his own. Still, it was home and he was never more grateful for it than he was in that moment. What he wouldn't give for a warm shower, a scalding hot cup of tea and a good book to fall asleep to…

Unfortunately, that didn't look like it was going to happen. He took his ANBU mask off and his lone uncovered eye landed on the form of Itachi Uchiha. His former squad-mate was perched on his kitchen counter, posture immaculate as always, in some sort of meditative state. He noticed the boy was wearing his ANBU uniform as well. Must've just gotten home from a mission. The older man proceeded to ignore him and wasted no time in stripping off his waterlogged armor.

"I'm guessing my shower will have to wait, ne Itachi-kun?" Kakashi was in the midst of fighting his soaked shirt off when the raven haired youth responded.

"I don't have much time, Kakashi-neesan. I apologize for the inconvenience, but this is of the utmost importance."

Kakashi stalled for a moment at the words before shuffling to find a couple of towels. After drying himself and wrapping the towels around his body, he collapsed onto his couch and patted the cushion beside him. The sound of the elements clashing outside vanished with a few handsigns from the Uchiha. Kakashi marveled, as he toyed with a strand of his now droopy hair, at how talented the boy truly was. The dip he felt in the couch let him know the young teenager was seated next to him.

The two genius ninja had an interesting relationship, borne out of their lives' hardships and the pressure of the ANBU mask. When Itachi was promoted to ANBU, Kakashi was asked to take him under his wing. He did so reluctantly at the time, but in each other they found kindred spirits and soon called each other brother. Itachi was the one and only person alive that Kakashi allowed anywhere near close to him. Even so, they usually didn't do house calls or sleepovers. That he would impose upon the elder shinobi was highly out of character.

"What seems to be the trouble, otouto?"

The boy, only fourteen, sighed as one who'd seen too much in too little time. Kakashi knew the feeling.

"Tonight is the last night I'll ever be whole again, aniki."

"I thought we agreed that I'd keep the depression if you kept the stoicism. Remember?"

"I have to kill them. All of them. Tonight."

The silver-haired prodigy was silent at that. Kakashi…was not as surprised at the news as he would have been, but the finality of it all shook him. Itachi had broken his pact to the elders earlier by telling him of all their plans on the massacre. How it would save more lives than it would end. How it was for the good of the country. How it was his duty as a shinobi of Konohagakure. Bullshit. All Kakashi could see was how two little boys' lives were going to be ruined. This was too much to ask of anyone, ninja or no. Part of his mind, the more paranoid and cynical part, thought his mission schedule picked up right as the elders were planning to enact the massacre. It was only his unusually early return that brought him to this moment. He filed that thought away for later review.

He knew Itachi could do it. Could kill those he loved so much in spite of their hatred of him. The boy was the perfect shinobi, practically S-class and heartless when necessary.

The Uchiha Clan wouldn't stand a chance.

Apparently, none of Itachi's pleas for the lives of Uchiha women or children reached the elders, with their hearts hardened by decades of war and bloodshed. Even the Hokage, as kind as he was known to be these days, couldn't stop the atrocities that would happen tonight. He wished, in that moment, that he was better at this consoling shit. But patting Itachi on the shoulder and telling him things will be alright didn't feel like it would suffice. And it wouldn't have meant anything anyway.

"Ah. And Sasuke-kun?" Kakashi knew how much Itachi loved the little brat. There was no _way_…

"He will live," Itachi intoned, "but he will hate me. And one day, he must kill me." He turned to me and his eyes glistened with tears that would never be shed. "I will warn the elders…afterward. When I am gone, you must watch over him as you have me."

The elder ninja sighed. "Maa, have I ever told you I'm _really_ bad with kids? Like horribly bad." Somehow, his petulance brought a small smirk to Itachi's face. "Ok, otouto. I'll do my best." From a man who was not a whole man, that was the best the Uchiha would get.

Itachi looked up at him through lashes too pretty to be on a man. "Thank you, sempai." Kakashi tousled his hair.

"Is there anything else I should know, Itachi?"

To his dismay, the boy nodded. He told him about an Uchiha claiming to be Madara, the deal he made with him and the life he'd be living as a member of the Akatsuki. Kakashi sucked in a breath and held it for a while. It helped him think.

He released it in a huff. "I don't feel good about any of this. Things don't add up well for us. " Kakashi clenched his fists in frustration. "We don't deserve this."

The younger boy shook his head. "I know, but I can fight it more out there than I can here." Kakashi smiled a bitter smile. Who knew Itachi-kun was so idealistic? How could the boy believe they could overcome the plots of old men? It was all too much, even for him to want to face. Then an insane thought flitted across his mind.

"We could run away," the copy-nin blurted out, "Together I mean. They'd never find us." He scratched the back of his head at the notion as Itachi raised a single eyebrow. _"Who's idealistic now, huh?"_ Kakashi thought to himself. He just couldn't control himself sometimes. Control was Itachi's department.

"Not one of your best ideas, sempai."

"No, I suppose not. Then I guess the plan stays the plan?"

"Yes, sempai. We can have our summons relay any changes to one other."

"You're _sure_ you don't wanna run away and luxuriate in the Spring Country? I hear there are plenty of hot chicks there…"

A sigh. "Yes, sempai. I am sure."

A chuckle. "Can't blame me for trying."

The pair sat in silence for a while after that. Two unparalleled geniuses laid low by the harshness of life. Their lives a living sacrifice for the village to which they swore their allegiance. It had taken everything; it had given everything. It had the makings of a bad drama all over it. Yet, here they were: one about to become the most infamous murderer in the modern shinobi world, the other about to lose his only living friend forever. What more was there to say?

The silence was comfortable but poignant, filled with words unspoken and by the sounds of muted rain Itachi allowed through the barrier. They soaked in each other's presence, harmonized their spirits. There was little chance of this time coming back to them again. Too soon, Itachi rose to leave.

"Before I go, Kakashi, there is something I must give you." From his sleeve he produced a bracelet made of interlocking rings of obsidian.

"To thank you. For everything." Kakashi stared at the jewelry placed in his hand. It matched the necklace the boy never took off. His hand clenched the bracelet in his fist. He looked up to the boy and saw, not a boy, but a man of such inner strength, such purity, that his words of gratitude were stolen from his mouth. _"Too young," _he moaned to himself, _"Too young!" _He opted for a nod.

Kakashi rose to embrace the brother he never had, one last time.

He managed to whisper something to the younger boy, who then whispered a reply before bowing deeply before the copy-ninja. Kakashi memorized every line of his friend's form, burning these few moments into his memory. These were the only memories he desperately desired to hold. He returned the young man's bow.

When he rose, the Uchiha was gone.

All that remained of his visit was the bracelet now on Kakashi's wrist and a salty tear streaming down Kakashi's face.

The rain continued to fall.


	2. Fathers and Sons

Behind Closed Doors

Conversation 2: Fathers and Sons

Characters: Hiruzen Sarutobi, Asuma Sarutobi

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto; the anime and all the characters and worlds within belong to Masashi Kishimoto. I'm just toying with the elements.

Author's Note: Here's hoping the next one doesn't take a month. I'll try and lighten up on the drama a bit too.

* * *

Tobacco and jasmine.

They didn't seem like a very pleasant cocktail of fragrances, but as Hiruzen Sarutobi lit the floral incense sticks at his desk, he couldn't imagine a better combination. Two scents of the earth, his very own element, to commemorate this special day.

The day of his death.

People called the Sandaime Hokage "The Professor" but thought his knowledge only pertained to jutsu. They didn't realize the implications of that moniker. Wiser citizens recognized that Kage didn't live to be almost seventy years old. They just _didn't_. Few knew that the venerable leader didn't just know things.

He _knew_ things.

He could look at you and know you, know your motives, know the easiest way to kill you and the best way to use you. Decades of studying words and people alike had given him almost clairvoyant abilities. He could only imagine using his abilities for peace, but today he foretold his death. The sign were in the air: the death of Hayate, the return of his once favored student, the weight of the world pressing down on his chest. None of it bode well for him or Konoha, and yet it was too late to make many more provisions.

The pain of regret truly stung more than any other.

The Chuunin Exams would begin in less than an hour's time, and then it would all change. He knew that. The morning light brought him clarity like he had never felt before. Suddenly, there were so many things to do, so many people to see. All at once he saw Danzo for what he was and how he could've done more for little Naruto and how Konohagakure wasn't the village he grew up in. And there was not enough time to properly deal with any of it.

But he could do a few things.

Sarutobi took the early hours of the morning to prepare for the future he would not see. The Academy could use restructuring. The psychological department needed fine tuning. The borders could be more secure. His jutsu needed to be passed on. And so he prepared as best he could.

He wrote mission assignments when necessary and personally moved when able. Left detailed instructions for his most trusted soldiers. He didn't have all the answers, but he knew enough of the problems and had a good enough view of the board that he could leave it all to someone else.

The Elders could not know he was acting lest they get suspicious or indignant (with his old friends, the two emotions were rarely separated). He kept his schedule regular and his meetings short. Even now he was finishing notes for his two faithful students. There was only one person left he had to see before it was done.

A few knocks at the door shook the old man out of his reverie. He looked at the position of the sun. About thirty minutes until the Exams. "_Never enough time," _he thought.

"Enter."

Through the oak door strode a hulk of a man, one of Konoha's elite: his very own son.

Yes, there were so many words unspoken between Asuma Sarutobi and him. So many that would remain unspoken. But he did need to get some things off his chest before the end came. He thought that after a life full of so much sacrifice, he deserved a small measure of peace. They both did.

"Hokage-sama."

The voice of his youngest son reached his ears and broke him from his reverie. His head snapped up at the sound. His mind had been wandering off far too much these past few years.

"Asuma-san. Please have a seat."

With a small handsign, the room's privacy seals were activated to their medium capacity. Unwanted visitors would be repelled but no one would find his need for secrecy suspicious. A Kage handled sensitive materials regularly and the Kage office needed to reflect that.

His son stiffly eased into his seat. Sarutobi huffed at the sign. Asuma knew better than to show such tension. Then again, very few lived long enough to be able to fool _this_ old monkey.

"I'm glad you were able to come so promptly, Asuma-san. Would you care for some tea? Perhaps a light?"

He wanted to smile at the befuddlement he knew was coming over the boy. Asuma very casually nodded before reaching for his tobacco stash. Movements perfectly measured. Body perfectly at ease. Much better. The boy learned well. He wished he…well, he supposed it was too late for wishing.

After the Sarutobi men were situated, the elder with a smoking pipe and the younger a simple cigarette, Asuma finally felt the need to speak.

"What's this all about?" His eyes searched his father's face. "As much as I'd love a smoke, I've got a kid in the finals who needs me."

The Hokage puffed on his pipe. "I suppose you do. Well, I'll make this brief."

A pause. These moments are always much easier to navigate in the mind. How does one voice their last words? How can you choose them such that they ring long after you're gone?

Well, there's always improvisation. He took a full breath and started talking.

"I've lived a long time, Asuma. My father, your grandfather, fought alongside the First Hokage Hashirama Senju in the founding of this village. This village I love so much. The Sarutobi are rooted to this village, more fervently than even the Senju. We have given much for the ideal of the village. Peace. Security. Harmony. I have given much for that ideal, even the entirety of my life. My family's lives."

The old Hokage leaned back in the chair, smoke trailing from his pipe. His son seemed too big in that chair. Wasn't he just a boy in his arms…?

"Some things I gave gladly. Others tore me apart."

Sarutobi's eyes were distant as he thought about all the sacrifice in his years. Back then he had Biwako to help steady him. Hold him through nights he thought would never end. She taught him more than either of his legendary teachers. But she died. And the weights in his life grew heavier and heavier…

"Pop. You're acting strange."

"I suppose I am son," Sarutobi said idly. "And I apologize for that. For everything."

With that, the Hokage refocused on the confused soldier in front of him and smiled. Silently, he reached for a file and slid it to his progeny, the last of his sons. He watched the man's eyes widen upon reading its contents and waited for his reply.

The jonin's mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for the right words to say.

"This is…a lot, pop. You sure about leaving this with me?"

He was sure. Someone had to carry the clan and everything else forward. He told him as such.

Asuma's nose wrinkled as he continued to scan the file. Must have only just smelled the jasmine in the tobacco. He would know what it meant. A deep frown etched itself on his face. He closed his eyes and sighed a sigh too much like his old man's.

"I will follow your instructions, honored father," the jonin said with solemnity befitting a monk.

Sarutobi felt his heart stir. Maybe things would be fine after all. Still, there always business to attend to. His guards would be here soon to escort him to the arena.

"I have a one more mission for you, Asuma-kun." With those words, he handed his son a necklace of beads. "I'd like you to pray."

Only his son could give him his last rites.

The younger Sarutobi nodded and they began to pray. They prayed for their souls and the souls of the children and of the villagers and of the ninja. They prayed for peace and respite and hope. The prayed for the present and the future and for an understanding of the past. And when they were done, they both felt at peace. There was little else to be said.

The Sarutobi men rose and prepared to leave the office. While Asuma sealed his file away and the Hokage checked his battle gear, the elder Sarutobi spoke his last words to his once-estranged son.

"I could not be prouder of you, Asuma."

Asuma stalled. There was a finality to those words that struck a strange chord within him. It was always different hearing vocalized words you longed to hear.

"In a way, you have already surpassed me. Continue to be a light for all those who cling to darkness, and all will be right."

The jonin nodded. "I understand."

With that the two men shared a smile.

"Well, I'm sure I'm in for a grade-A rant from Ino now. Better get to the arena." Asuma saluted his father before disappearing.

Sarutobi smiled. He'd done all he could. He was done. A few moments later his guards appeared by his side, and once he was sure he was ready to leave, they too disappeared.


End file.
